


To Those We Have Lost And To Those We Shall Soon Find

by WaytooHaughtforCandles



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Lesbian Character, Canon Lesbian Relationship, Canon Universe, Childhood Memories, F/F, Fluff, It's sad at some parts be warned, Violence, give it a read you just might like it, no clexa but I figured you would want to know about Lexa's childhood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-23
Updated: 2017-11-23
Packaged: 2019-01-26 11:36:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,987
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12556544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaytooHaughtforCandles/pseuds/WaytooHaughtforCandles
Summary: A collection of Lexa's memories from ages two through sixteen.Each paragraph is a different memory.They range from adorable to heartbreaking.





	To Those We Have Lost And To Those We Shall Soon Find

**Author's Note:**

> The memories get more detailed as Lexa gets older. I did it that way because they would be more recent, and easier for Lexa to remember.

_**Two Years Old** _

Aching sobs tore wildly at the air around her. The blurry face of her mother hovered in her vision as trembling arms attempted to comfort the wriggling child. She buried  her face in long brown locks that smelled of pine trees and the pure scent of home she would soon forget. She was barely aware of the tears streaming down her face. A new pair of arms, unfamiliar and unbreakable wrenched her away. The first of many times her heart would break. She kicked, swung, scratched, fought with everything in her very soul at anything she could reach. The whole village heard her guttural screams. Whispers must've followed her mother for weeks after.

Polis was larger than she could have ever thought possible. She missed the trees. The light which changed to softer hues and shades of green and yellow when it shone through the leaves. The moss which softened her steps. Polis didn't smell of pine. Bustling markets and smoke which carried scents of roasting meats through the wind crowded the streets. People from all clans wandered through the bright city. Lexa was trapped. Alone.

 

_**Three Years Old** _

The other children were older than her at first. A few months in, and another _natblida_ was found. Newer ones wept silently into their pillows at night. Lexa joined the soft symphony of pathetic whimpers when the shadows got too dark. Cracking voices whispered names of siblings, parents, _home_. But Lexa forgot faster than the others. She sat in the corner of the table by herself, tracing patterns in the wood lightly. 

 

_**Four Years Old** _

She blinked herself awake earlier than the others. Lexa found the most pure form of joy when the sky was painted with colors that danced and changed before her. 

Dusty. Her first fight in the arena she would one day kill in. She willed herself not to care. But when she fell to the ground, defeated, the older boy with a gap in his teeth snickered. Her tears refused to sink into the compacted ground, dust floated to the top. Wobbling knees straightened she twirled, baring her teeth, threw herself at the back of his legs.

Anya. Her mentor. She was cold. Unforgiving eyes left her behind when she tripped. Lexa learned to keep up. Grew used to the sarcastic comments and found that the teasing was more bark than bite.

 

 

_**Five Years Old** _

The dagger shook in her small hand when she held it. Glinted in the sunlight. Unsure eyes looked up for guidance. Anya hid her empathy behind the paint, repeated to the child with the briefest raise of an eyebrow. She was to hold the knife until it was an extension of her limb, until it no longer brought her fear. Lexa didn't cry when her pillow was stained black, the small cut lazily dripping from her fingertip.

She learned to be careful.

 

_**Six Years Old** _

A _natblida_ from _Trikru_. The first newcomer in years. Sniffles and quickened, broken breaths from a nest of red hair woke her. Lexa wordlessly gathered the fragile girl to her chest. Drenched in darkness which drowned all colors to blacks and greys, the corners of Lexa's mouth raised into a rare smile. Anthia smelled of pine trees.

The pool glittered, surrounded by great oaks and birds whose songs were vaguely familiar. Lexa taught Anthia how to swim. Laughter floated through the air, untroubled and brilliant. The city was less of a prison. Anya pretended not to notice when Lexa crept into the edge of the forest, tugging Anthia along behind her with quiet giggles.

 

_**Seven Years Old** _

Lexa bet Anya she couldn't get away with stealing food from the kitchen. When the last candle was blown out for the time of sleep, a silent feast was thrown. Lexa found she had been brought into a family of unrelated siblings. Sisters and Brothers bound not through blood, but the shared color of it. 

The crack was a sickening noise, echoing hollowly through the crisp evening air. Eveyn's cry flooded chills down her back. Alarm and adrenaline coursed through her veins, she stumbled as she ran to his side. The healers told her she broke his leg. All the other _natblidas_ except Anthia stared, fear lacing their eyes. Anya told her to be more careful, went over technique. Titus just congratulated her. Lexa's stomach churned. She wrenched up her dinner in the bathroom in the dead of night, her throat burning. 

 

**_Eight Years Old_ **

The world was blurred. Only Anthia's face remained clear as she shouted her euphoria to the world, arms clasped with Lexa's as she spun them around. The girls whooped in circles. Anya found them with grass stains decorating their clothes, chins, boots. She fought the smile threatening to break loose before giving in. The three jumped and shouted, rolled around in the grass for no reason other than they could. 

The library was filled with warm golden light. The graveyard of a forest. Looming shelves offered the same security as the trees they once came from. She lost herself in the smell of worn covers and pages that held worlds she never dared dream of. Amazing creatures of times past fluttered through her sleep.

 

_**Nine Years Old** _

The bark was rough on her fingers as she crouched low on a branch. Eyes narrowed, breathing steady and hushed. The layers of greens and browns covered her from view. She could feed her heart attempting to leap out her chest, excitement getting the best of her, but her breathing remained steady and soft, her body unmoving. A shuffle in the leaves, and she brought her hand to her mouth, slowly, as if she were a cat creeping behind her prey. One short, precise breath out. The dart hit it's mark. she slid down the tree like a shadow, as deadly and quiet as death. She loomed over the rabbit, which lay limp. Under the sleep solution she had dipped the tiny weapon in. The animal felt nothing as Lexa took it's life.

The rhythm of the drums resonated over the ground, the vibrations thumped through the air in time with her pulse. Lexa grinned widely and stepped in time with the music. Hands grasped in Anthia's. The torches brought patterns which danced and flittered over faces in the crowd.  Flickering light made Anthia's hair as bright as a flame. Spinning and giggling, troubles lost to the sounds of the festival.

 

_**Ten Years Old** _

Her lessons with Titus slowed time. Repeated droning of politics and restrictions, history and _Gonasleng_. Stealthy notes were passed from one small hand to another to keep boredom at bay. Carefully timed coughs hid amused smiles at silly sketches and jokes. 

 _Heda_ stood as if his legs were growing roots into the ground, unmovable as he watched the _natblidas_ train. Lexa fought harder in his presence, searching for approval. She ignored hits she knew would leave her skin purple and blue, grit her teeth when she felt warmth trickle down her bicep after a narrowly avoided attack. In between bouts she took note of his regal ways. The hands clasped behind his back, chin raised in the slightest, broad shoulders pulled pack and spine straight. His expression was that of one who yielded the highest authority. The days when he wore his paint only made him more striking.

 

_**Eleven Years Old** _

Nimble fingers sifted through her hair, precise braids forming in their wake. Lexa sat quietly, embraced the soft sensations of sisterly touch. Content to be cared for, to feel loved. She brushed aside Anya's murmuring of having to learn to do her own braids, the importance of keeping one's vision clear during battle. A misshapen triangle of light shone through the window, hugged her face.

 

 

The foal was clumsy, curious, skipping around her mother. The fastest mare in polis. Bred with a warhorse who had carried many brave warriors to victory. Lexa smiled as the young thing pranced in a circle, shoulders rippling under the brown fur. The inexperienced creature would soon grow into her skinny legs. 

 

_**Twelve Years Old** _

Lexa swung the blades in synchronized circles, admired the natural fit they took in her calloused hands. She nodded at the blacksmith, lifted herself on the tips of her toes to pass the payment over the counter to him. His enthusiastic descriptions of quality and material paired with his bellowing laugh brought her shy smile to a childish grin, full of elation from purchasing her own weapon. She was powerful, lethal, a _gona_.

Grunts and rapid breaths came from the man as he struggled with jerking movements against the rope. Arms harshly tied above his disheveled curls, back pressed against the tree. He held storms in the eyes that darted wildly across faces in the crowd. His expression and bared teeth made him more beast than human. A madman. Silent warriors waited, for justice, for blood, for a show. When the cuts began Lexa didn't look away. Red dribbled down his chest, arms, forehead. It dipped over the curve of his lips, down the slope of his jaw. He bled with the dignity only the insane were capable of, pulling at the ropes until the end, no signs of agony escaping. _Heda_ dragged his knife across the monster's throat, and the lives of the dead were payed for.

_Jus drein jus daun._

 

**_Thirteen years Old_ **

The entrancing tune swirling from the woman's flute-like instrument sounded as if it came from one of her storybooks. She closed her eyes, let the melody float around her. Lexa was more than happy to fall victim to the music's spell. She opened them to see Anthia with eyes wide and mouth slightly open, wonder flooding her features. Lexa beamed as she bought an instrument for her, and a ribbon tied to a stick for herself, Anthia's back still turned as she faced the musician. When Lexa later presented the gift, the younger girl barreled into her, squeezing her into an embrace which sent her falling on her back. Red locks blocked her vision as the two of them laughed so hard their stomachs ached, holding one another in the waving grass. The day flew by as Lexa giggled and spun, her ribbon jumping gracefully through the air. A random collection of notes accompanied her dance as Anthia blew into her gift, bright smile hidden behind the instrument.

 

 

**_Fourteen Years Old_ **

A flash of warm brown eyes distracted her. Lexa fell backwards, groaning as Anya knocked her legs out from underneath her. Brown eyes giggled quietly from where she stood, hand covering her mouth. Lexa's cheeks burned with shame as Anya smirked, motioned with a twitch of her head at the soft chuckles behind her. The girl smiled with amused playfulness as she introduced herself. Costia.

Costia was a baker's daughter. She joked, bright and beautiful as she laughed over a basket of warm sweets. Lexa's fingers tingled where they brushed against her's. She radiated joy. Streams of golden sun turned her eyes to mixed shades of sweet honey. When Lexa found a hand wrapping around her neck and chocolate eyes closing in front of her, she smiled into the kiss. Costia's lips tasted of cinnamon and sugar.

 

_**Fifteen Years Old** _

Eyes squeezed shut, Lexa lumbered blindly forward, tugged along by the reassuring hand of her _niron_. She grinned stupidly when she felt a brief kiss on her cheek, followed by the order to open her eyes. Blinking as she adjusted to the light, Lexa gasped. The meadow was worthy of a dream. Stunning flowers of every color danced with the breeze. Costia's entire face lit up, pure glee etched over her features. Lexa soon learned that nothing brought Costia more happiness than bringing joy to others. They wandered, fingers intertwined, gently picking flowers here and there, placing them in the delicate basket which Costia had brought along. When it was filled with vibrant stems and petals, Costia sat behind Lexa. Tenderly placed flower after flower into the braids which she had weaved that morning. When she was as painted as the meadow, Lexa turned, tucking a beautiful layered blossom behind Costa's ear. The sweeping breeze brought loose petals swirling around the girls as their arms wrapped around each other. Costa's lips tasted of honeysuckle.

The wind nipped at Lexa's flushed cheeks, tugged at the furs she had over her body. She smiled into the biting chill as fragments of white whirled around her. A snowball smashing into her back sent her stumbling forward, whipping around to face her attacker. Costa's brilliant smile, radiant eyes met her's. Her mischievous giggles were cut off as a snowball exploded onto her stomach. Lexa's eyes glittered, as she stood smirking, holding a snowball in each hand. They stomped clumsily after each other, winding around trees, playful shrieks joining the chorus of the blizzard.

 

_**Sixteen Years Old** _

_Heda_ had fallen, slain by an _Azgeda_ spy. The conclave would take affect at dawn. Lexa spent the night with her face buried in vibrant crimson locks, feeling tears seep onto her shaking shoulders. Anthia whispered wishes of peace, a better world in which the clans stood as one. Lexa could only nod, planting the softest of kisses on the younger girl's forehead. A stone weighed on her aching heart as she twisted Anthia's flaming hair into delicate braids, softly wiped the streaks of tears from puffy eyes. She did the girl's paint, dipping her fingers in the charcoal mixture and tracing two thin lines from each eye down to her jawline, one broad streak of her thumb down the girl's chin. Anthia dipped her fingers in the solution when she finished, lightly spreading the dark paint over each of Lexa's eyes. The soft touches sent new tears dipping over Lexa's cheeks, smearing the paint. Instead of wiping it away, she dragged her fingers down her face, leaving the paint in messy streaks over her cheekbones.

Lexa grimaced as she misjudged the distance of Eveyn's slash, felt stinging warmth trickle out of her torn thigh. She shoved the pain to the far corner of her mind, brought her blades back up with a snarl. As he barreled at her, spear held high, she convinced herself she didn't know the boy. That she didn't run gasping to him when she broke his leg that day long ago. That he didn't slip her the last bit of chicken when she lost her hunt. That he didn't pass her crumpled papers with hasty sketches  that had her hunched over with laughter. That he didn't give the best bear hugs. That he didn't let her borrow his socks when he noticed her shivering. That she hadn't grown up with him. That she hadn't grown up with any of the _natblidas_. Her brothers and sisters who she trained with. Laughed with. Cried with. She let herself believe that she didn't know the boy as she watched the light fade from his hazel eyes. As he choked on his own blood with her blade buried deep in his heart. As she wrenched her weapon free and he lay dying on the dusty floor. As she walked away with the stance of a warrior. Powerful, lethal, a _gona_.

She couldn't do it. Wouldn't. Her arms lay limp by her sides. Anthia stood before her, the braids she had weaved now frizzy and out of place. She was cradling her left arm. Lexa shook her head slowly. She was frozen, molded to the ground as Anthia brought her dagger up, the blade shaking slightly. Before Lexa could stop her, Anthia lodged the weapon deep in her own stomach, releasing a short cry. Lexa's swords clanged as she dropped them on the concrete, stumbled forward to catch the young girl as she crumpled in on herself with quickened broken breaths, convulsing. Lexa could only hold her as blood as dark as ink leaked from her open lips, seeped onto the ground around her, coated Lexa's hands, legs, abdomen. Anthia's once bright red locks were stained black as the puddle spread. She jerked and shook in Lexa's arms, tried to speak and found her blood coated tongue would not move. With her dying breathe, she stared into Lexa's tear filled eyes and found the forest in them.

Lexa stood numb, made of stone as the last _natblida_ collapsed to his knees, eyes wide with disbelief and pain while his slit throat covered his chest in black. She didn't hear the horn that meant the conclave was over. Didn't hear the roar of the crowd for their new _Heda_. She didn't feel the pricks of the needle as her back was tattooed with the color of death, a circle for each _natblida_ that died. For each child that she would never see again.

That night, her _niron_ entered her quarters, wrapped Lexa in her arms. Clawing desperately at Costia's back, Lexa broke. She cried for the deaths of seven. Cried for the memories which she could never again visit with happiness. Cried for the closest things she ever had for sisters, brothers. Cried for the end of innocence, the end of giggles and dancing, the end of stupid jokes and teasing shoves. She cried because she would never again be allowed to feel, because _Lexa_ was gone and _Heda_ needed to be unmovable. She cried when Costia peeled her clothes from her skin, when the bathwater was turned to a starless night as the blood of her friends was scrubbed from her body. She cried because the pain was buried deep in her chest and she couldn't get it to stop. Flashes of her kills, her murders played over and over in her mind. She cried until there were no more tears to give, whimpering, weak, exhausted. She didn't know when she tired herself out, fell asleep with salt dried on her face, body molded to Costia's.

_Love is weakness._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hopefully you all enjoyed this.
> 
> If you need some fluff to cheer you up, check out the modern clexa au I'm updating regularly. 
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/12312396
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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